


Devotion

by ImpishFics



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Christianity, Coming Out, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Idols, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Negative Self Talk, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Religious Discussion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, happy ending baby, mark isn't the internalized one, mild angst tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishFics/pseuds/ImpishFics
Summary: The water filled half the tub and Donghyuck started to undress. Bruises on his knees. He thought of another way he could have gotten them and he hated himself. His dick started to respond. To chub up at the thought of being on his knees for someone, and he hated himself. His neck had gotten thinner this comeback. It would look better with thick strong fingers around it, and he hated himself. Donghyuck stepped into the icy water. It didn't stop being cold.He got to his knees in the water and thought about praying. Oddly, that is what made him cry, not much, a tear or two. Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory. He didn't pray, his family was Christian but they were Christmas and Easter Christians, they didn't say grace, they didn't pray before bed. Why would God want to hear from Donghyuck? What could he possibly say?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 19
Kudos: 206
Collections: ImpishHaechan's Donation Request Fulfillments





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> [Consider Checking Out This BLM Info](https://moreblminfo.carrd.co)
> 
> This is another request that I completed with proof of a donation to certain orgs and bail funds, you can find out more [here](https://twitter.com/translixie/status/1267220505888784384)
> 
> This one was completed for Lynda who requested Markhyuck Idols with Internalized Homophobia

He knew this was coming, eventually at least. They were individuals, and everyone always had a lot going on all the time, that came with the idol territory, but they weren't stupid. They had to take care of each other, they had to look out for each other, that's what Taeyong said, that's what the managers said, that's what every senior group said when asked for advice, 'Look out for each other, no one else in the industry will." So Donghyuck knew that at a certain point they would step in. He got along for a while, but they started to notice. But that didn't mean Donghyuck stopped.

If he was smarter he would have. He told himself this, that if he were smarter he would hide it better, if he were smarter they wouldn't know, if he were smarter he would know the second they picked up on it and pretend to stop, make them think he was fine. He _was_ fine. He was fine.

Because if everyone knew they would agree that this was the best course of action. When he worked until his muscles ached, and when he danced until he felt like he could feel each of his ligaments and tendons, and when he pushed himself to take every opportunity until it consumed every part of his brain and conscious there was no room for anything else.

No room for this new form of narcissism that consumed him. His mother always said, well not always but it felt constant to Donghyuck, childhood is a funny thing, as much as parents say they love you or their proud of you or to be kind and gracious, the things that they do say often aren't the ones that plant firm roots in their children's conscious. It's not the things that they hold the most weight to, or try and reinforce most often, that hold pillars in their minds, it's the things they say in moments of desperation, exhaustion, frustration. In moments of truth. The quote of his mothers that ricochets in his mind now is not when she tucked him in at night with 'I love yous,' it’s not when she folded his clothes for him and said “only the best for my baby,” it’s not when she cut his hair for him and swore he would “always shine so bright!” it's not when she woke him and his younger siblings up in the morning singing in her raspy voice “rise and shine and give God your glory glory!" Sometimes he thought of that, "Give God your glory glory" but mostly, these days he thought of her, angry and righteous in the car home from his aunt's house, upset after a phone call, ticked off after watching the news, "I swear the biggest narcissists are the ones who hate themselves."

There was truth to that. His mother was very rarely wrong. These days Donghyuck was either thinking of himself acting on his most selfish thoughts or berating himself for being so selfish to think those thoughts. Donghyuck's two worst forms of narcism: Fight! It was a very selfish circle, either he was thinking of himself _like that_ , or he was hating himself for being so selfish. His existence wasn't just his, it never was, but now he has to think about each of his members, every member of the team, the staff, the managers, they would all be affected if he were to be so selfish and so he had to stop himself. He had to stop himself, which only led to hating himself more, more narcissism, and so he focused on being something good, something producing, a tool that could help others, he focused on honing himself so much he couldn't think of any other aspect of himself. He fought narcism with more narcism. He hated himself for this too. It's not a cycle, it's not a circle, it's a drill, pulling Donghyuck deeper and farther into the earth.

Donghyuck thinks of the earth, the soil under his toes. When was the last time he walked barefoot outside? On the beach certainly but the grass? Felt the dirt underneath his soles? It had been years. Maybe it was good, let this drill return him to the earth, the Motherbody1. But there is no return, there is only digging deeper, and Donghyuck's pushed himself too far, placed himself on the brink of exhaustion. This line he walks is the precipice of his own exhaustion, and thus he isn't left with the energy to pull himself out.

He came home in a different car than everyone else. This has gotten more and more common, in some ways it signifies a good thing. He's busier, busy is good because it means he's wanted. People wanted him. But it also meant when his other members went home he went somewhere else, maybe to meet his other members somewhere else, talk with new people, give the same answers, or sometimes it was to go practice with the choreographer alone. When he was a trainee or just debuted, extra time with the choreographer was a bad thing, it meant he was falling behind, he was the one lagging behind, that he was the weakest link. These days it doesn't mean that, but sometimes it still feels like that. No, now he missed a group practice for a different group performance and so he's left with the choreographer trying to catch up, so much of his time these days is leapfrog, catch up to leap ahead. He caught up, he practiced with the choreographer until each point of the dance felt more sure than his next breath, until the routine became the easiest answer to the question his body kept posing. His body was the accuser, answering questions that either guided Donghyuck to the tallest peaks or tempted him his own greatest fall.

He came home late. In his own car, a manager driving, her hands were certain on the wheel. She let him sit in the back seat. Sometimes when he drove with the other members they fought over the front seat but Donghyuck liked the back seat. Less questions. Less glare from the street lights.

His parents had moved with help from the money he sent home. He knows that but they didn't really talk about it, he would hate it if they did. But they had moved two months ago now, and he still hadn't seen it. His sister showed him her room when they video called. His mom doesn't know how to turn the camera around but he saw the kitchen in the background the last time she called. The cabinets were white, there was a butcher block island. Their old house had had smooth black cabinets and a granite countertop. His sister's room was bigger now, but she had the same comforter. Not the same one she had when he had last lived at home, that one had been purple with yellow chevron, but when he visited, just after Boom promotions ended, it was the same comforter. She had shown Donghyuck his room too. That was weird, his room that he didn't live in, his room that had pictures of friends he hadn't seen in years, his room that gathered dust. His room that wasn't his. When guests came they stayed in his room. When Donghyuck came he stayed in his room. His little brothers still shared a room. He had told his mother they had the money for each of them to have their own room, that one could have his room but she insisted. She said it would teach them things, that to have to share would do them good. His mom told him that their new house was farther from town, that she liked it because she had to drive for fifteen minutes to see a stoplight. The lights were too bright in the car.

His bones ached and Donghyuck thanked them for it. He pushed his way to the dorm so many keypads, so many codes, a doorman who always forgot Donghyuck's name. He didn't blame him, he thought it was sweet that he always asked. Donghyuck occasionally fantasized about giving him a fake name, or even more scandalous: his real one. No one called him Donghyuck anymore, no one in Seoul at least. Taeyong was on the couch, maybe waiting for him, maybe just waiting for someone to come pay attention to him, to get some social interaction before he left for the studio for the night.

"Welcome home Haechanie! Are you all caught up?" Donghyuck snorted.

"I'm more than caught up, I'm going to outshine all of the hyungs!" Donghycuk stuck out his tongue, juvenile because he knew Taeyong sometimes liked that. That Taeyong didn't like when Donghyuck acted immaturely but played along when he spoke so. Taeyong didn't stick his tongue-out back.

"I believe you!" Donghyuck stiffened, and then laughed.

"ew hyung your gonna make me cringe." Taeyong rolled his eyes and went back to his switch.

"Auntie made dinner, there's leftovers in the fridge. I'm gonna leave for the studio in an hour." Donghyuck didn't feel very hungry, but he knew he should eat before it got too late. He ate the food without heating it up, because it wasn't that bad cold and their microwave was aggressively loud. Taeyong frowned at him. Donghyuck pretended he didn't notice. His body ached.

"Do we have ice?"

Taeyong wordlessly pointed to the freezer. They had an ice maker, but they liked to save that for drinks. Half their freezer was filled with bags of crushed ice, the kind they bought at the convenience store. Donghyuck grabbed two and waved bye to Taeyong.

Johnny was gone tonight. He was... somewhere. Maybe he had told Donghyuck and Donghyuck had forgotten, maybe he hadn't told Donghyuck where he was going, but Donghyuck knew he was gone. Donghyuck could get off in their room tonight.

He hated himself for thinking it instantly because it wasn't so simple. Hated himself because he knew that it wasn't the idea of alone time that got his body excited but the idea of what he could do, what would bring him there. The videos he might watch or even worse the images his mind might create. His friends. His body. Him bent over the dorm couch where anyone could walk in, being-

He stopped himself. He walked back to the kitchen and grabbed another bag of ice. An ice bath might be better than just a soak for his feet and legs.

He started the water in the bathroom, let the cold water blast and begin to fill the tub. He ripped open the first bag of ice and then repeated it for the next two. The bath filled quicker when it was cold, but he still had to wait a bit. He didn't take off his clothes, not yet, instead he sat on the toilet lid and watched the tub fill, watched the water rise up to meet the ice and buoy it, and then rush over it. The ice floated.

Donghyuck remembered where he learned about this. Ballet class. Soaking his feet for the first time after rehearsals for the winter showcase, he had gotten the male lead for his age group, it meant dancing for more hours straight than he ever had before and he remembered when he was found by one of the Noona's from one of the older dance groups, the actual female lead of the show. She had found him hunched over his feet in a pseudo butterfly stretch, crying over his aching feet. He had had blisters he wasn't prepared for, his ankle felt full of rust, his toes were unimaginable. And she had taken his hand and led him into the women's locker room (no one cared so late at night) and pulled up two buckets, filled them with ice and a hose. He had cried at the shock of the cold water but she didn't comfort him. She sat next to him. Her feet didn't look much better but she was right, the ice helped. The cold was good. That winter showcase was the last performance he ever did with the ballet school. He wondered if he missed it.

The water filled half the tub and Donghyuck started to undress. Bruises on his knees. He thought of another way he could have gotten them and he hated himself. His dick started to respond. To chub up at the thought of being on his knees for someone, and he hated himself. His neck had gotten thinner this comeback. It would look better with thick strong fingers around it, and he hated himself. Donghyuck stepped into the icy water. It didn't stop being cold.

He got to his knees in the water and thought about praying. Oddly, that is what made him cry, not much, a tear or two. Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory. He didn't pray, his family was Christian but they were Christmas and Easter Christians, they didn't say grace, they didn't pray before bed. Why would God want to hear from Donghyuck? What could he possibly say?

The water rose in the bath, Donghyuck turned off the water. Donghyuck let himself sink back into the icy water, let the water lap at the overheated skin of his torso and chest until just his arms and head were out. It _hurt_. The cold was good.

The cold is good. The cold reminds him that he is _here_.

There was a time when Donghyuck was worse than this, thinking different things, responding differently, hurting differently, but he was no less selfish. The Selfishness is always the same. The ways he punished himself before were selfish, it hurt him and everyone else. In the bible Jesus promises that God doesn't punish, that punishment is something humans do, something unjust. Jesus Christ took the punishment, now all that's left to receive is discipline. This is discipline. Is Donghyuck so narcissistic to think himself a God? Something worthy of doling out discipline? His wickedness is overwhelming, his selfishness is infinite. And he's thinking about himself again.

He disciplines himself because discipline leads to change, and even if he can't he must try. Because giving in isn't just damning himself, it's damning everyone. Does he think himself so important? Can he pretend he is not? The mirror on the back of the door reflects every inch of shame and hatred on his face, every inch of exposed skin screams of it. He is the most narcissistic person he has ever met. He closes his eyes because he is selfish enough to try to escape.

His skin is beautiful and written in perversion.

It would be one thing if he was gay. It would be one thing if he was in love. It is another that he is gay and in love with his best friend, who may not be his best friend anymore, who has to be his coworker. Donghyuck is extravagantly and unselfishly in love with Mark Lee and because of that, he is the most selfish person alive.

Donghyuck hears the door to the dorm open, and he imagines Taeyong rushing out of it, his big hat, his backpack, energy drinks for another sleepless night. He thinks about earlier, his eyes filled with concern. The guilt can't float with the ice on the top of the water, the guilt sinks just like Donghyuck's weary bones. Maybe the cold will console that too.

Discipline is an old friend and easy comfort. It is so cold. It is so kind.

Donghyuck hears the door open again, and he imagines Johnny coming home earlier than expected. Good, if Johnny's home Donghyuck doesn't have to worry about being strong enough, doesn't have to agonize over his own weakness. Having a roommate is good, having someone right there can sometimes help curve narcissism. Sometimes.

A knock on the door.

"I'm soaking." They only have one bathroom on their floor, if someone is showering or bathing, something that takes time they say so, so someone can use the toilet or sink if they need to. Maybe Johnny has to piss. The door opens. It isn't Johnny.

"Use your own bathroom."

"I'm not here to use the restroom." Mark says and Donghyuck figured as much. Mark looks almost as tired as Donghyuck feels. "Can I talk to you?"

"Does it have to be while I'm naked?" Mark makes a face.

"You've been slippery lately."

"I would actually say I'm at my slipperiest now," Donghyuck says and brings an icy hand out from the water, it drips water over the side of the tub. Mark sits on the toilet lid, the exact spot Donghyuck sat in earlier.

"You've been prickly lately too." Donghyuck thinks about it. He didn't even realize he had been, well not mean, but prickly might be the right word for it.

"I'm sorry." There was a time when Donghyuck would fight this, everything used to always be so personal, his every action was a reflection of his purest intentions and represented him, everything he did wrong meant that _he_ was wrong and if someone didn't like something he did they _hated_ him. He no longer lived in such extremes, he just couldn't bear it. That was a good thing about being in a team. A part of so many teams for so long, his individual actions, his isolated words no longer had to define him, he learned how to let go, he learned how to say sorry. 'Sorry' no longer feels like giving up.

"You're doing it again," denial rests on the bed of his tongue alongside a million phrases but Mark continues, “You're doing it again, and it's different but you're still doing this. You aren't taking care of yourself, your purposely sabotaging yourself"

Donghyuck takes a breath, it aches when the water is so cold. He's been in the bath for some time but not enough for the water to warm up substantially. His breath feels warm.

One time when Donghyuck was young right after his family had moved to Jeju he had stayed home from school sick, and he watched his mother prepare more tea while sitting on the floor wrapped in the duvet from his bed. She had turned the tap to cold to fill the kettle and he had asked her then, spared precious painful raspy words to ask, "Why don't you use hot water if you make it hot anyway?" She had stilled mid-motion, still holding the kettle over the stove, before answering.

"I guess I don't really know, the cold water feels cleaner." He hadn't understood then. They had laughed over that, how silly. But Donghyuck understood it now, the cold felt cleaner, his hot breath was dirty.

Donghyuck sags deeper into the water. The tips of his boney bruised knees stick out a bit, but this way only the tips of his slender shoulders peak out over the icy water. It's weird, being naked with Mark _right_ there but the ice conceals him, he's a tan blur under censored water. Mark isn't looking, if their positions were reversed Donghyuck would hate himself for how hard it would be not to look, how the desire to watch icy water drip down Mark's neck would be all he could think about.

"It's different." Donghyuck settles on. It _is_ different. Before, the selfishness was selfishness that protected him, now this selfishness could protect everyone.

"It's not different enough Haechannie," Mark doesn't call him Donghyuck anymore, "I'm not going to tell you to stop. I'm not going to tell you every reason you should. You already know, I'm not going to treat you like you don't."

"Then why are you here?"

"To ask you why."

"Soaking can help prevent injury." Donghyuck doesn't look at Mark, he drags his fingers through the icy slush on top of the water. He forgot to set a timer.

"But that's not why you're doing it." A question would be too generous, Donghyuck narrows his eyes, even if he's only looking at his own hand.

"I don't want to get hurt again."

"That's true, but we both know that's not why you are doing this. Why are you doing this, what did you do that's so bad Hyuck?" Hyuck Hyuck Hyuck Hyuck. Donghyuck is strong but the cold is penetrating every part of him. He's been in the bath so long, his spine feels frozen to the core. He has nowhere to go. Donghyuck sinks deeper, until his knees are clear out of the water and his chin is hovering an inch from the surface.

"It's not what I've done. It's what I want, I," He looks over at him, "Mark."

"Do you want to hurt someone? Do you want to hurt yourself?" The 'more than you have' hangs in the air. Donghyuck shakes his head resolutely. "What do you want Hyuck? You can tell me."

How many things would Donghyuck give Mark if he only asked?

"I want to be different than I am. I want to be the worst version of myself, I want to" Donghyuck stops himself by dunking himself into the icy water, he doesn't close his eyes fast enough and water goes up his nose. He emerges, shoulders and chest out, red-faced, teary-eyed and snotty and coughing, hacking, ice water. His hair sticks to him.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Mark says it like it'll do anything. He's no longer on the toilet, now he's kneeling on the side of the tub. His grey sweatpants are soaked at the knee from the water spilt over the side of the tub. "Stop doing this."

Donghyuck has to look up at him. Donghyuck likes looking up at him. He's steady, consistently good, better than everyone else, he's a compass for which way up is. Mark Lee is up. Donghyuck is so tired, and he can't pull himself out but maybe Mark will know what to do. Or maybe if Mark knows he won't stop Donghyuck.

"Mark I'm gay." Except that's not enough. "I wanna be fucked, roughly. I want people, men, to tear me down and fuck me until I'm bruised and I want to choke on cock until I'm not sure I'm going to live and I _want_ that, I think about it constantly, I spend all my time trying to stop myself but it's useless, I'm useless, and I can't stop."

Donghyuck can't stop, because instead of back away Mark has put both his hands on the edge of the tub. Donghyuck can't stop because Mark doesn't get it.

"You're religious Mark, you must know that this is sin. I'm _wrong_ Mark, I've offended your God, and everyone else. I just, I want things that are going to ruin this for _everyone_ , and I can't stop, because I can't stop thinking about myself I'm too narcissistic, I'm so fucking obsessed with myself that someday I'm going to ruin _everything_. "

Mark grabs Donghyuck's shoulders, tightly, so tightly.

"Lee Donghyuck. Look at me," Donghyuck wants to scoff, he couldn't look away if he tried but he's too scared to do anything but stare at Mark's face, "God is unknowable about many things, but there is a few things we can be certain on, and this is one of them. My God loves us just like this."

"Like this?" Donghyuck's voice cracks. Maybe it too is cold.

"Just like this Donghyuck. He loves us so much, He is so pleased. You are so loved, none of what you just said has the power to change any of that, in fact I know it doesn't."

Sometimes when Donghyuck imagined telling Mark, he spat on him. Sometimes when he imagined telling him he walked away. Sometimes he imagined Mark hitting him. Sometimes he imagined Mark kissing him. He didn't imagine this. Mark putting one hand behind Donghyuck's head to lean their foreheads together and whisper truths and promises that terrify Donghyuck but lift him up too. Donghyuck comes up to his knees until he is kneeling too.

"He loves you, not in spite of anything, but because you are you and I am me and we are His and He is so happy. I promise you Donghyuck, your God loves you, And everything you want to do, to be fucked, to be marked, to devote yourself to another person, to be _loved_ aren't a sin, aren't the path of evil, aren't acts against Him. You celebrate Him in loving, because He is love."

Love. Donghyuck, in all of his thinking, in all of his narcissism, hadn't thought of it like that.

"But it could ruin everything. I could ruin this for everyone." There is no need to scream, there is no room to cry, the space between them is just enough to form the words. He doesn't need to push much sound out his lips at all, it's like Mark is with him in his head. As scary as a place like that can be, as if Mark is hearing Donghyuck's voice the way Donghyuck hears it in his head when he speaks, where the words are loudest and the tone undistorted by distance or particles it's forced to travel through to get to him. At this moment, Mark is with Donghyuck.

"Any one of us could ruin everything at any moment, that's the thing. That's always going to be true. Every day is another chance to lose everything. And we have to keep going anyway. Nothing is ruined right now, you aren't ruined, Donghyuck, live right now, with me."

Mark is rambling, and Donghyuck should tease him, call him Shakespeare, say he's talking in monologues, call him obsessed with the sound of his own voice. But that isn't Mark, that's Donghyuck, calmed just by the sound of Mark's voice so close, grounding himself in each aspiration. It's a lot. A lot.

Mark is so warm. "Are you with me, Hyuck?"

"I'm here."

"I think like that, too. Not gay, bisexual maybe, but I want that. To love like that," Donghyuck can _feel_ Mark's blush, it only makes him warmer. "and I am loved just like you are loved." Mark pauses and Donghyuck can hear both of their breaths. Can feel Mark's pulse from where his fingers grab onto Donghyuck. "I don't think I've ever said the word 'love' so much." Donghyuck's laughter is a puff of air that joins Mark's.

Mark is up, but Mark is right here. Mark is the goal, Mark is the pointer, Mark is the compass, but right now Mark is here. Sharing his air, his knees wet with soaking water, his forehead pressed against Donghyuck's own, his pulse fluttering with Donghyuck’s. Mark is here. Donghyuck always thought up would mean escape, but maybe, right now it can mean this. It can mean breathing, really breathing, sharing air and space, and truth. Mark wants what Donghyuck wants.

"What if I want you?"

"Then you have me." And Mark is kissing him. Donghyuck thought Mark's hands and cheeks were warm, but they are nothing compared to his mouth and tongue. Mark kisses Donghyuck like he's a sculptor and Donghyuck's made of soft clay, careful but firm, molding Donghyuck like he can become precious. Like since he can become something valuable, he already is. Mark kisses Donghyuck like he's loved, like he's been loved. Donghyuck feels it in the trail of his tongue over his teeth, in the insistence in Mark's lips, in the promise of his teeth.

They break apart to breathe but they don't go anywhere, Donghyuck stays rooted and Mark doesn't stray. Mark comes closer, and he whispers into Donghyuck's lips, speaks prayer into the bare space between them, their shared breath.

"Everlasting and Everlasting" And he kisses Donghyuck more. And Donghyuck kisses him back. Donghyuck is loved, and Donghyuck is loving. There is nothing selfish in this.

Donghyuck pulls his hands from the water and clutches back on Mark's neck, he shivers, Donghyuck can feel it against his lips. in his mouth, under his own pruney hands. Mark doesn't stop kissing him, every part of Donghyuck is leaning towards Mark, curving into him even with the side of the bathtub between them.

Mark is up, Mark is here, _this_ is salvation.

Donghyuck pulls back, and Mark looks confused but his eyes are still light, still reverent, Donghyuck stands up. He is cold, he is bruised, he is worn down, his body reflects that. His soft dick flops lamely against his thigh, his skin is red and goose-pimpled, his knees are knobby and discolored. And Mark's eyes worship him with just a gaze. Donghyuck reaches out a hand. All Rise.

Mark helps Donghyuck out of the tub, he pulls the tab to let it drain, Mark pulls Donghyuck, wet and naked, into his warm clothed chest. His arms try valiantly to span over Donghyuck's back but some skin is bound to be left bare and freezing, the air is warmer than the water, but it barely soothes Donghyuck's skin. Mark is so much warmer.

Mark slots a leg between Donghyuck's, brings them closer, warms him up, but also brings his hip until it's pressing into his no-longer-freezing dick. He gasps into Mark's mouth and Mark swallows it. He wants to be entirely swallowed by Mark.

He rocks into him, experimentally, feels his bare skin colliding with the fabric of Mark’s clothing. One of Mark's hands falls lower, cupping his ass, holding him closer still. Mark rocks forward and it’s clear he hasn’t been soaking in an ice bath too long, his erection throbs against Donghyuck’s hip. Mark kisses across Donghyuck's jaw and behind his ear, licks and sucks the lobe, wet and gross and loud and heavenly. Donghyuck melts into him even more, all his muscles that constricted with the cold loosen for the express purpose of sagging against Mark. So close he need only speak in less than a whisper.

"Everlasting and Everlasting"

"You said that already."

"That's the thing about things that are everlasting," Mark bit Donghyuck's ear lightly, "they tend to continue on. You are loved everlasting, you are forgiven everlasting, this right here," a kiss, right on Donghyuck’s pulsepoint, “us, together, everlasting.”

There are some things that Donghyuck believes, there are some things Donghyuck questions, but there are fewer things, rarer things, that Donghyuck knows. In that moment, Donghyuck knows.

"Will you show me how I am loved?"

"Would you want that?" There is no separating, they whisper into each other, the tub drains loudly but instead of speaking up they speak in, into each other.

"I want it." Mark pulls back, Donghyuck doesn't doubt him. He waits for the fear, for the vulnerability, for the hate to rush in, but it doesn't come. Mark doesn't lock the door, doesn't run away, he grabs a fluffy towel and wraps it around Donghyuck's shoulders. It does little to cover his erection but Mark probably did that on purpose.

"Your room?"

"I don't really feel like riding the elevator like this."

"I was hoping you'd say that." It's hard not to smile, so Donghyuck doesn't try very hard. Mark is so beautiful and so kind, and so gracious. Mark is clumsy but Mark is full of grace, the grace that fills up Mark is kindness, goodwill, the space of himself that he has carved out to carry others.

Donghyuck giggles as Mark peeks his head out the door and looks back and forth in a bad impression of the spy characters in movies. Donghyuck laughs when Mark almost trips while trying to tiptoe in wet socks and has to grab onto the wall. Donghyuck covers his mouth with his towel wrapped hands and tries to compose himself and when Mark gives the all clear he barely stops himself from giggling as he shuffles down the hall boner-bobbing and bare from the waist down to his room. He collapses against his bed laughing and Mark laughs with him as he locks the door and turns back to the bed.

Donghyuck stops him, "No getting on my bed in wet clothes." Mark laughs.

"You are all wet, Hyuckie" Donghyuck smiles, would it be weird to thank him for not calling him 'Haechannie'? Would it be weirder than anything else they've done tonight?

"But I have a towel!" Donghyuck pauses before speaking again, "But if you want you can borrow some of my clothes, I can turn around and-" But he trails off because suddenly Mark is hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pulling down his boxers with them. Mark doesn't pause, he whips off his t-shirt too and awkwardly bending and hopping on one foot to take off his socks too. He is a vision. Strong lean muscle, body hair and acne and years of living, years of loving, the threads that weave him shine with holiness that Donghyuck can see even from this distance. He is handmade, he is bespoke, he is stitched in grace.

Donghyuck unwinds himself from his towel so it lays behind him, so he can open his arms and legs so Mark can do this. Walk forward and settle between them, bare and heavy, and still so _warm_. Mark kisses him again and it's a greeting, a reminder, he doesn't need to say it for Donghyuck to hear it, 'everlasting'.

Mark’s hands explore Donghyuck’s chest, tweak his pretty pink nipples. circle each of his moles, span across his soft stomach with fingers calloused from years of guitar. He wraps a warm, rough hand around his cock and Donghyuck can’t help but curl towards him, pulled towards him like melting plastic furling and curling. Mark jerks Donghyuck steadily and firmly, sure hands, confident grip. Donghyuck stops him just when it starts to chaffe.

“Can I suck you? Please?” Mark's eyes are blown wide and dark like Donghyuck’s the MOST amazing thing. When Mark looks at him like that, he’s inclined to believe him.

They swap positions so Donghyuck can settle between Mark's firm thighs and he's once again looking up at Mark. Looking up into an open face, his body completely naked but his face even more bare, every emotion, every sentiment, laid out clearly before Donghyuck. Admiration, lust, wanting, vulnerability, love love love.

Donghyuck redirects his eyes to Mark's waiting cock, so pretty, darker than the rest of him and swollen with want, precum gathering at the tip. He flicks out his tongue to lick it, to taste it, salty and bitter and so real. This isn't a dangerous dream, this isn't a fantasy leading to his downfall, this is real, this moment. Every sensation is thrown into sharp clarity, and instead of tearing apart each sensation is a reminder, he is loved, he is wanted.

There are still parts of him, whispering and cringing at his every action, reminding him that this is wrong, and if it isn't wrong, if this is okay, then he doesn't deserve it. But for once they don't sound the loudest, they don't feel more real than real. It's so much easier to push that all aside when Mark is here, when they are them.

He sucks the head into his mouth, spongy and soft and foreign but a welcome weight on his tongue, he can't help but take a little more. He loves the way his mouth has to stretch to accomodate more of Mark, he can feel every reaction Mark is having underneath him, it's addicting. He takes too much and he pulls off to cough before trying again. Mark's hands wind into his hair, brushing still-damp bangs off his forehead, and Donghyuck tries again. He gets about halfway and lets his hands cover the rest. Like this, he can look up at Mark, he looks ridiculous, his best friend in shock with his own pleasure. Donghyuck could laugh, but instead, he just hums around Mark and hollows his cheeks.

Mark's eyes scrunch shut and a small grunt leaves his mouth and it's the best sound Donghyuck has ever heard. Donghyuck repeats it again, humming and sucking and bobbing up and down lightly, and Mark makes a litany of sounds each more delicious than the last. Grunts and moans and swears under his breath, "fuck, fuck, fuck,' that's Donghyuck's favorite. It makes Donghyuck feel powerful, like a force, like something that gives and takes, something like the tide.

He goes faster, pushes himself to take more and finds he can still breathe through his nose, he pushes himself farther still just past the point of discomfort and he swallows around Mark his eyes squeezing shut in concentration. Everything is just Mark, in his mouth, pushing into his throat, tugging on his hair.

“Hyuck I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” Donghyuck only hums around him, good, he wants all of Mark, wants to take all of him. Donghyuck pulls up and gasps desperately lungfuls of air only to push himself back down and take more of Mark, until it aches in a way that isn’t punishment, isn’t discipline, it aches with devotion. Mark cums with a moan and a horse whispered, “Donghyuck!”

Donghyuck tries to swallow it all, but it’s honestly more than he thought and Mark’s dick _was_ pretty far down his throat so it only makes sense that he has to pull off to cough, the rest of Mark’s cum hits the lower half of Donghyuck’s face in delicate streaks. Donghyuck coughs and swallows, and finally gets some good air in his lungs.

Mark is looking up at him, coming out of the world of his climax like waking up, with soft sleepy liquid eyes. Puddle eyes, so soft they’ve melted. He is the picture of calm, a lazy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Donghyuck can’t help but smile back, gaze back, lean his face towards Mark’s outstretched hands. One cups Donghyuck’s cheek, grounding him in the soft familiar comfort and Marks other hand wipes away his own cum with careful passes of his thumb. Donghyuck leans forward to suck Mark’s thumb, to reclaim his cum but Mark moves it away, out of the reach of Donghyuck’s lips down to his aching erection. Donghyuck whines at the feeling of Mark smearing his release over his throbbing cock, using it to ease the stroke of Mark’s tight fist around him.

He opens his mouth in another moan, too loud, too discordant in the space but Mark’s lips meet his own. Mark is surging up from the bed to capture each of his noises, to hum back into his mouth as he pulls him closer and closer to the edge. It’s so much, Mark broad and relaxed underneath him, this isn’t a fight, he doesn’t have to fight for this, Donghyuck can just have this. Donghyuck just gets this, Mark underneath him, around him, in his mouth. Mark even thinks he’s deserved it, to feel this good. Donghyuck’s starting to believe him.

Donghyuck finds himself pulled over the edge, cumming into Mark’s tight fist, not with a bang, not with a shout or a particularly loud scream but a supreme release. He sighs, deep, a sigh of exhaustion and surrender, to this moment, to this feeling, to this love, and collapses into Mark. Strong and relaxed and not a very good pillow but the one Donghyuck needs right now.

In the moments afterward, Donghyuck is warm, his hair is still damp from the ice bath but sweat is cooling on his back at the same time. He doesn’t want to go anywhere.

“Can we really have this?”

“I don’t really know for sure. We’ll have to hide.” Honest, not what Donghyuck wants to necessarily hear but he’s grateful for it. “But when we hide, it will be for us, to protect us,” Mark’s hand, sticky and warm and rough and slick winds with his own, “to protect this. And isn’t that better?”

Isn’t that everything he’s wanted? To be protected? Held in love? Donghyuck squeezes Mark’s hand, this love is something unselfish, there is no narcissism in loving Mark Lee, there is only this.

“It’s better. This is something sacred. This is devotion.” Mark’s eye’s meet Donghyuck’s, Donghyuck is so close he can only look at one part of Mark’s face at a time. Just his eyes, but he can tell Mark is smiling.

“Everlasting and Everlasting.”

**Author's Note:**

> [this carrd has a lot of great info regarding BLM](https://moreblminfo.carrd.co)
> 
> You can find a post explaining why and how im doing theres requests [here](https://twitter.com/translixie/status/1267220505888784384)
> 
> This fic was a hard one to write, I know a lot of people write Mark as having internalized homophobia tied to his faith so I wanted to explore what it might look like for someone like Hyuck, who isn't as devoutly Christian but more spiritual to battle with internalized homophobia. I prefer not to write fics that are "canon" (it feels wild to treat reality as canon but 'tis the most appropriate lingo) but I wanted to do justice to this request so I hope it was believable. Mark has said he's protestant but hasn't said which denomination of protestant so for the sake of this fic I based it off of presbyterianism. I'm not Protestant, I was raised with two religions and neither was Protestantism but I tried to research so I could accurately depict what a Protestant approach to queer love would be and this is what I came up with. It's pretty wild, but I hope it was able to feel liberating for someone out there!
> 
> 1: the Motherbody is in reference to the concept of Motherbody, coined by Terry Tempest Williams and adopted by some Feminist Christian thinkers, see a recent take on it [here](http://thesaltcollective.org/where-is-the-motherbody/)
> 
> My info: 
> 
> [My twitter (minors dni)](https://twitter.com/translixie)
> 
>   
> [CC](https://curiouscat.me/translixie)


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